Rituals
by Laurelgand
Summary: After every mission, each member of Weiss has a private ritual to perform....
1. Naehred (Ken)

**_Rituals: Naehred_**  
By Laurelgand (laurelgand@home.com)  
http://www.weisskreuz.net

  
  
  


* * *

Part one of a four part series which explores the ideas of rituals. This part features Ken. Omi, Yohji, and Aya will follow respectively. Author's notes follow the story. 

* * *

_What do you do, afterwards?_

Every mission, every death.... Ken kept very careful track of his kills. A mental tally of what was owed. To balance the scales, in some small way. He wondered, idly, if any of the others had some ritual to see them through the aftermath of a mission. 

_After I kill...._

Rituals are a part of life. Rituals for life, rituals for death, rituals for eating and sleeping and for making love. For comfort, for religion, as a matter of habit-- there are always rituals to perform. 

_One more death...._

Life is a game, and every person a player in a set of moves too convoluted to fathom. When you falter, there is always something to fall back on-- the formula, the ritual of life. What you do from day to day. The things that keep you sane, the things that stay the same no matter where you go or who you're pretending to be. 

_The things that keep **me** sane...._

The things you do automatically; the things you can do without thinking too hard about because they have been mindlessly performed a hundred times before. 

_Too many... too much...._

Everyone has a ritual. 

_Assassin._

Ken silently slipped into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. A faint beep betrayed the arming of the apartment's state-of-the-art security system. In darkness, Ken unerringly walked down the short hallway and into a small room. Flipping on the lights, the dark-haired bishounen was greeted by the same sight which always awaited his return from a mission, a room full of green and living things. 

_Mission of death..._

To an outsider, or even to one of his fellow members of the four-man assassin team that made up Weiß, the room would look much like a florist's paradise. From humble begonias, carnations, and geraniums to the exotic and showy orchids and lilies, the room was filled with beautiful flowers; each a well-tended masterpiece. But these flowers would never grace Koneko No Sumu Le. 

_Murderer._

These flowers were memories; the private monuments erected by a driven man as memorials to those departed. Each colorful and fragrant plant a symbol of the fragile hope of life from death. 

_Mission of life...._

And so Ken counted his kills very carefully. Because Ken knew at mission's end he would find himself once more in the small room, planting a seed for every life taken that night. Some nights there were only a few, and some nights there would be a dozen or more. He would not sleep, nor change from his 'work clothes', nor do anything else until that task was done. A ritual. 

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..._

Perhaps for partial expiation, or possibly even to feel a little bit like a god-- giving life with one hand while the other takes life away. His ritual. 

_From the earth we came, and to it return..._

Crossing over to the workbench, Ken selected a pot at random, already filled with moist rich earth in which to plant yet another gravestone. He immersed himself in the ritual, the formulaic movements, to prevent himself from thinking too hard about what... **who...** the pot represented. Tightening his fist, the bishounen loosened the soil with the bugnuk's extended claws, still sticky with semi-dried blood. Retracting the bugnuks, Ken removed his glove and threw it carelessly to the ground. 

_Only one tonight...._

Ken regarded a nearby shelf with carefully packaged and labelled seeds and bulbs, considering. Finally, he settled on the mixed zinnias. With care, he removed a small pinch of the seeds, the promise of life, and placed it gently into the awaiting soil. He patted the seeds down, covering them lightly. 

_Only one.... in memory of you...._

Ken stared at the pot, summoning his memories of the kill. As always, the salty tears began to flow, running down his cheeks and finally falling to the awaiting earth below. But this time, the tears... the memories.... Ken bowed his head, sobbing quietly. 

_Kase...._

Grounded in blood, and watered with tears... theirs, and his... a ritual of death and life to keep the darkness at bay.   
  
~_Owari_~  


**Author's Notes:**

Special thanks to Jen-chan, for sending me the Weiß Kreuz tapes! *grovels* 

I chose to write this story less to explore Ken's character than to experiment with the idea of achieving a balance of one's actions. A life for every death, a seed for every kill.... The initial concept wasn't even Ken-based, but after considering the four members of Weiß, he seemed like the best choice for a story that dealt with these issues. 

In flower language, mixed zinnias mean a remembrace; thinking of an absent friend. The title, _Naehred_, is German for "Nurturing". Before watching Weiß Kreuz, my German vocabulary probably consisted of 10 words or less. So I apologize if I have used the term in error. 

*^^* This one is kinda morbid, actually. And more stream-of-conciousness than I usually write. Hmmmm.... I look forward to your feedback! 

**Disclaimer:**

Weiß Kreuz (and associated characters) belongs to Koyasu Takehito *.*, Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, TV Tokyo, Bandai, and others I've neglected to mention. No copyright infringement or disrespect to the creators/copyright holders was intended in the writing of this 'fic. 

This 'fic written and self-published by Laurelgand. All content not copyrighted to others is © April 2000 to Lara E. Gill. 


	2. Es Geht Um Leben Und Tod (Omi)

**_Rituals: Es Geht Um Leben Und Tod_**  
By Laurelgand (laurelgand@home.com)  
http://www.weisskreuz.net

  
  
  


* * *

Part two of a four part series which explores the ideas of rituals. This part features Omi. Yohji, and Aya will follow respectively. Author's notes follow the story. 

* * *

_What do you do, afterwards?_

There was always a little more to be done. Even after the mission was over, things to follow up, things to be taken care of. Secrets to be hidden. People to be protected. Reports to be filed. 

_After they die...._

Omi had been Weiß before there even **was** a Weiß. It seemed all his life had been focused on that one goal. Learning the skills necessary to protect the future of the innocent. The skills to punish the guilty. The ways to kill, and be killed. Dying a little more each day. 

_Hunt the future of the dark beasts...._

The phrase had become a personal matra, a call to duty. A ritual of sorts. And after the mission, something more. 

_Innocent and guilty..._

He was the first member of the four man team of assassins that made up Weiß. Omi had been doing this for a long time. And the mission was never over when the target died. Perhaps it was for the others, but not for him. Omi had a ritual to perform... for duty, for closure, to make peace with his soul. 

_Why did he....?_

Everyone has a ritual. 

_All of them... dead...._

The crossbow made a dull thud as it landed on the floor beside Omi's jacket and headset. The seventeen year old bishounen stretched, wincing slightly at the protestation of still healing bruises and cracked ribs. 

_Fool._

Not bothering to turn on the lights, Omi walked a short ways over to his computer and pressed a button. He dropped into the awaiting chair, welcomed by the familiar 'shuppu' as the computer booted. Light from the screen gave his features a pale, ghostly appearance. 

_Bastard._

Several mouse and key clicks later, Omi found himself logged into the intricately encrypted mail system. It was time to finish the mission. Omi wondered if the others had any idea what he did at mission's end. Already, they had found reason to mistrust him. How would they feel if they knew this? Well, it hardly mattered now. 

_Bombay... Mission Report...._

Usually the reports were cut and dried. The target was eliminated. Mission accomplished. Evaluations of Weiß performance levels. Ocassionally his reports included analysis of a teammate's actions during the mission, when those actions were at conflict with the mission goal. Objective. Factual. 

_Black and white...._

It was only recently that Omi had begun to see so many shades of grey.... When the missions became personal. The targets became relatives. When everything Omi thought to be true was turned upside down in a matter of days. Now the words which used to bring him much needed distance from the death and guilt seemed too paltry to describe the immensity of what happened. 

_Abyssinian succeeded in his mission. The target has been eliminated. Weiß operatives sustained only light injuries. One casulty-- Persia._

Damn him anyway. All his life, Omi had been betrayed, lied to, and used. An instrument of revenge. What was the point? Why did he sit in the dark, writing a report that no one would read? Persia... the man who molded Weiß and Omi into his personal instrument of revenge; the uncle Omi barely knew... was dead, killed by his own brother. Killed by Takatori Reiji. Tears trickled down Omi's face and splashed on the keyboard. 

_My name... is Tsukiyono Omi!_

His hand was shaking. With a burst of anger, Omi hit the send button. Sending a report for Weiß's final mission to a man who would never read it. What comfort could be found in a ritual that outlived it's purpose? Mission accomplished....   
  
~_Owari_~  


**Author's Notes:**

After the positive reaction I received for Naehred, I thought I might continue the concept of personal rituals in a series. I was rewatching the second episode and found inspiration for Omi's ritual-- even though it takes place after Episode 15. 

_Es Geht Um Leben Und Tod,_ is a German phrase meaning "A Matter of Life or Death". Before watching Weiß Kreuz, my German vocabulary probably consisted of 10 words or less. So I apologize if I have used the phrase in error. 

O.o I don't like this one as much... too depressing. I purposefully repeated some lines from Naehred to achieve a sense of continuity between them. Dare I ask for your feedback? 

**Disclaimer:**

Weiß Kreuz (and associated characters) belongs to Koyasu Takehito *.*, Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, TV Tokyo, Bandai, and others I've neglected to mention. No copyright infringement or disrespect to the creators/copyright holders was intended in the writing of this 'fic. 

This 'fic written and self-published by Laurelgand. All content not copyrighted to others is © April 2000 to Lara E. Gill. 


	3. In Der Bluete Der Jahre (Yohji)

**_Rituals: In Der Bluete Der Jahre_**  
By Laurelgand (laurelgand@home.com)  
http://www.weisskreuz.net

  
  
  


* * *

Part three of a four part series which explores the ideas of rituals. This part features Yohji. Aya will follow. Author's notes follow the story. 

* * *

_What do you do, afterwards?_

He had done it again. No matter how hard he tried, Yohji couldn't stay away from this place, even after a mission. Especially after a mission. He might set out with a destination in mind... a bar, or perhaps a nightclub.... and yet he always ended up standing before these quiet doors. 

_After I...._

A ritual for every occasion, a ritual for every person. Business man. Nun. Politician. Housewife. Liar, prositute, killer, thief.... Saint or sinner; angel or devil... it made no difference. 

_Sin._

Everyone has a ritual. 

_When you gonna learn?_

Later, he would go to that bar. But there was something he had to do first. Yohji wondered how his fellow assassins in Weiß spent the night after a mission. He chuckled mirthlessly. Whatever it was, surely no one could not match this. With a sigh, Yohji pushed gently on the door and slipped inside. 

_Killer with a conscience...._

Thankfully, the church was empty. Alone but for the watchful eyes of the departed, mutely gazing at the tall bishonen from stained-glass worlds. Quick steps took the assassin towards the altar; he turned into one of the wooden pews and knelt. Clasping his hands together in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture, he looked up. 

_Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...._

Murder... a mortal sin, isn't it? Yet even that was supposed to be forgiven, because of one man's suffering. Heaven? Could there really be such a place, for men like him? But Yohji believed in sin. And Hell. 

_I have killed six people since my last confession...._

Confession was supposed to be good for the soul right? Repent, and be absolved. But was he sorry? No. Yes. Maybe. Yohji didn't have much faith in it; never had and never would. Salvation? For others, yes.... the innocents; with their pure white, endlessly clear souls. They would ascend to Heaven. 

_Asuka...._

A single tear dripped down Yohji's cheek and onto his clasped hands. Was she in Heaven watching him? Waiting for Yohji to join her, if he could? If he did go to heaven, she would be there. Without her, Heaven would be Hell... and this ritual a useless gesture towards appeasing the assassin's world-weary soul.   
  
~_Owari_~  


**Author's Notes:**

For Jen-chan, my very dear friend and helpful inspiration for this story. Thank you for the Weiß Kreuz tapes, and everything else as well! *HUGS* 

Yohji, in a church? Even though Yohji doesn't strike one as a particularly religious person, he does have a fascination for sin, don't you think? Like Ken's ritual, I decided on Yohji going to church to confess his sins because it's unexpected. 

It's a Catholic church, and the sacrament of Confession a Catholic ritual, but I tried to keep things very general so readers of all backgrounds could relate. Yohji's ideology (and methodology... but I didn't want to complicate the story with the addition of the priest ^^;;) is a bit confused too, but that's okay :). 

One more to go! *keels over* 

The title, _In Der Bluete Der Jahre_, is a German phrase meaning "In The Prime Of Life". Thought it was fitting for Yohji-kun. My German vocabulary grows apace.... 

I live for your comments! ^_~ 

**Disclaimer:**

Weiß Kreuz (and associated characters) belongs to Koyasu Takehito *.*, Project Weiß, Kyoko Tsuchiya, TV Tokyo, Bandai, and others I've neglected to mention. No copyright infringement or disrespect to the creators/copyright holders was intended in the writing of this 'fic. 

This 'fic written and self-published by Laurelgand. All content not copyrighted to others is © April 2000 to Lara E. Gill. 


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